


Sunshine in Kirkwall

by Rifa



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition, Reunions, Romance, hand holding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-03-24
Packaged: 2019-04-07 05:05:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rifa/pseuds/Rifa
Summary: Varric returns to Kirkwall to take up the mantle of Viscount but has someone he needs to see after years spent apart. Quick fluffy romantic short!





	Sunshine in Kirkwall

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LadyNorbert](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyNorbert/gifts).



> This is a piece for LadyNorbet and her rare-pair, it was first time even considering Varric with a romantic interest and its was a lot of fun to explore and write with. I hope you all enjoy!

It had been years since Varric had seen the miserable grey towers of Kirkwall on the horizon. Years since he had been forced to leave the city and traverse all over Thedas to fight demons and templars and mages and darkspawn and whatever else decided to try and destroy the world that week. He wasn’t even sure that there wasn’t anything trying to destroy the world this week. But he had done his part, several times over probably, and was being called home for a reason.

 

Kirkwall was still a shithole, but it was his shithole.

 

It felt different now though as if Varric was walking through a nostalgic dream of years past. The rebuilding of the city was well underway, but the roads and buildings and piss-smelling allies remained. Enough had changed that Varric felt out of place, a loose thread from what was once a tightly woven tapestry, but the foundation was still there. Blood and sweat and memories that no amount of renovations could cover up.

 

Varric had feared to return after such a long time away. Kirkwall had become an anchor in his mind, an ideal of a time in his life that could never be revisited or recreated outside of his memory. So many friends had left and were, most likely, never to come back to try and rebuild what they had. What they had back then wasn’t any good, to begin with, in most cases. 

 

There was only so much rebuilding one could do.

 

In his pack, he carried all the letters he had received from Bethany, every single one, folded and preserved and tucked away. He had needed to stop himself from writing daily, so much crazy shit had happened and continued to happen around him he knew he couldn’t even try to get it all down. Best leave it to the scribes the Inquisition hired for that.

 

But he had kept contact with Bethany, through her time eluding the templars out in the Marshes with the other mages that had escaped, while Aveline had spirited them even further away from Kirkwall as the Grey Wardens and others began to act strangely. Eventually she had been able to return, to claim the Amell estate that Hawke had abandoned. 

 

It was where Varric was headed, but something kept him from heading there directly. An anxious prickle across his skin he couldn’t shake. He had missed Bethany so much, had thought of her every morning and every nightfall. But seeing her after so long- he didn’t know what it was that scared him. He lingered on the familiar roads, looking up at the repaired buildings and estates. Avoiding the Hanged Man altogether as he passed boarded-up entrances to Dark Town, Merrill’s old flat replaced with new brick and mortar, Fenris’ creepy mansion cleaned up and claimed by some well-to-do nobles. 

 

Too much had changed. He had changed. He wasn’t the same person he had once been, not after everything he had seen. 

 

Would Bethany even want him now?

 

Varric hovered at the door to the Amell state, staring up at the dry and dead vines that still clung to the walls like an old memory. He sighed, wondering if he should knock or just walk in like he used to when Hawke had lived there. He tried the knob and it turned, unlocked, took a breath and entered.

 

It looked the same. Well, except for the cobwebs and thick dust. Some of the more polished decor and trinkets were missing, probably looted after Hawke left. The house was quiet, Varric’s footsteps almost as loud as his heart beating in his ears. He rounded the small entry hall, waving off the memories of Hawke and her drooling mabari, before ducking his head into the living space.

 

“Sunshine?”

 

Bethany looked up from the desk, hazel eyes catching the low embers in the fireplace as they widened. Varric’s chest ached, his heart racing, he opened his arms into a half-shrug, as if to say ‘here I am I guess’ when his voice failed him.

 

She stood, nearly stumbling as she closed the distance between them. But it wasn’t the romantic scene Varric might have written, she did not run to wrap her arms around him and he did not sweep her off her feet. Reality never played out that way, he knew better than anyone.

 

“You’re here,” Bethany’s voice after years of absence was a soothing balm on Varric’s soul, even if she was blinking in near disbelief and breathy with shock.

 

Well, at least he knew he could still take her breath away.

 

“I am,” Varric dropped his bag, unable to take his eyes off of her. “They keep trying but they can’t keep me away from here anymore.”

 

Bethany’s eyes were shining, her lip trembled as it twitched into an almost smile and fell again. She looked as if she was ready for him to vanish in the air or for all this to be a dream. She had always been hopeful and optimistic in her letters, but she had rarely ever suggested they might ever see each other again. She had become so used to being isolated from those she loved, having everyone fall away from her.

 

“Hey, Sunshine, I’m here,” Varric stepped closer as Bethany covered her face, about to cry, “I’m here, I’m staying, it’s alright-”

 

Her hand fell to his shoulder and he stilled, his chest ached at the touch. How he had wanted that touch, her hands, and lips upon him for years. Even before Kirkwall crumbled into chaos they had years of visits in the Circle. There were the few times Bethany was able to leave and they could barely touch, barely even clasp their hands for fear of retribution. It had been too dangerous, too many eyes in the Templar order and the merchants guild waiting for either of them to show a moment of weakness. 

 

Varric had resigned to it. It was complicated and that had been fine with him. But now everything was different.

 

He reached for her hand and squeezed it, so small in his large gloved hand. She blinked away from her hand, face red and tears running down her cheeks. Varric reached for her freed hand, brought it to his lips and kissed the wetness away. No one was here to see, their enemies were far behind them, and they were both alive. How many others could even say that anymore? They couldn’t, especially if they were dead, obviously.

 

“I knew you were coming, but I-” Bethany sniffed, wiping her face on her shoulder as Varric pulled her closer, wrapping her arms around him. “I could barely believe it, it didn’t feel real, I didn’t even go to the market…”

 

Varric leaned into her, ducking his head to rest against her stomach as he folded himself around her. He could feel her shaking.

 

“Does it feel real now, my Sunshine?” It was cheesy, if he had written it down he would have crossed it out and tried to think of something more realistic. But time always did make a fool of him, didn’t it? 

 

Bethany’s hands ran up and down his back, taking fistfuls of his overcoat before moving up to stroke his hair. Maker, he wanted so much more, they had so much time to make up for. He wanted to ravish her and throw her over her shoulder and run to the nearest pub and have them filled with drink and food and hold hands in the streets. He wanted all of it. They had both come too close to death, too close to vanishing completely from each other's lives for him to want to take anything slow.

 

But this was good too. Just holding each other. The rest could come later. 

 

After a time, Bethany pulled away taking Varric’s face in her hands so she could stare happily into his eyes. Her eyes still shone but now she was smiling, unsuccessful in holding back a nervous giggle. 

 

“You’re back!” She exclaimed, pinching his cheeks before he waved her off of his face. “This is so strange, you’re just standing here in my house like nothing happened.”

 

“Your house,” Varric chuckled, eyeing the familiar room, so much the same yet different again. At least Isabella’s signature was still carved into the handrail. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in here more than once or twice, how does it feel?”

 

Bethany’s chest swelled as she took a long breath, looking around unsteadily, “It’s strange, I had always hoped I would get to finally live here properly but-” She shook her head a little sadly, “It’s a bit lonely. Most of the place was looted but my sister’s things are still here and I haven’t found a way to open the door to mother’s old room.”

 

Varric winced, the house was full of ghosts of the past. Hawke had left Skyhold to follow the Wardens, restless ever since being on the run, and Varric knew she still had the key to her mother’s room kept safely with her. 

 

“Well,” Varric brushed aside the unpleasantness, although it never seemed to fall far enough. “Good news, Sunshine, I’m here and I’m here to stay.”

 

Bethany blinked, “There is still talk of making you Viscount?”

 

Varric laughed nervously, involuntarily, “They haven’t changed their minds yet! Apparently, the council in charge of these things thinks I am qualified because of my time in the Inquisition but, I don’t think they realized that I didn’t do much besides hang around and occasionally point Bianca at something.”

 

Bethany made a face, unamused at his joke but smirking anyways, “Well I know that’s not true.”

 

“It is!” Varric shrugged, “I spent most of my time at Skyhold sitting around drinking and writing garbage romance for the Seeker, I purposefully attended zero meetings.”

 

“But you are the most popular choice,” Bethany countered, “Everyone in Kirkwall wants it to be you, you are a folk legend around here.”

 

“Just because I wrote a book,” Varric chuckled, shaking his head before looking up at Bethany and grinning, “This is really nice, you know?”

 

“What is?” Bethany blinked nervously.

 

“Just talking,” Varric’s smile widened until it hurt, “Hearing your voice, talking about shitty politics, no one here to interrupt or threaten either of us. It’s really pleasant, don’t you think?”

 

Bethany’s eyebrows hitched. “It is,” her voice was barely a breath.

 

“We should do this more,” Varric wanted to reach for her hand and hold it again. Was that too much? It seemed like it might be too much.

 

“We can keep doing it now, Varric.” Bethany smiled. 

 

“Yeah,” Varric blinked down. Why couldn’t he just take her hand? He had already, just moments ago. They had been together for years for Andraste’s sake, why did he feel like a teenager on his first date? “Can we- can I hold your hand again?”

 

Bethany beamed, there were slight crows-feet at the corners of her eyes that were new but she still shone like the sun. She presented her hand with the smallest of eyerolls, “You don’t need to ask you know.”

 

Varric took her hand, sheepishly, “I can’t help it if I’m a gentleman.”

 

“I suppose not,” Bethany smiled wider, swinging her held hand slightly as if they were young lovers prancing through a flower field. Which, didn’t actually sound so bad now that he thought of it. 

 

“I was making a joke,” Varric croaked, scratching the back of his head shyly. 

 

“No, you are a gentleman,” Bethany insisted, so it must be true. 

 

They stood there for a moment, holding hands in the middle of what used to be Hawke’s living room, and it didn’t feel half as awkward as Varric thought it would be. It was nice. He hadn’t completely disappointed Bethany yet, and by all accounts she seemed happy to have him back.

 

He wondered if she was as happy as he was. How could he tell her how happy he was to be here with her? How do you tell someone that without it sounding like a hollow and rehearsed line? He doubted he could even write it down, his hands always shook and language fell away into meaningless scribbles when he tried to put down how she made him feel. 

 

Where would they go from here? They hadn’t even discussed what to get to eat for dinner, much less what would become of their relationship if Varric accepted the role of Viscount. Varric wasn’t even sure where he was going to sleep tonight. 

 

Maker help him, he hadn’t even kissed her yet!

 

“So I was thinking,” Bethany broke the silence, “We could buy a meat pie from the market, I know a baker who makes really good ones, bring it back and have it here for supper?”

 

“Yeah,” Varric had barely followed a word of what she said, still lost in his thoughts trying to figure out when would be a good time to kiss her, and how. He was at a height disadvantage, pulling a woman down into a kiss was a much bolder move than leaning into one. It took planning and skill and timing to not pull her down into an accidental head-butt.

 

Shit, why was he overthinking this so much?

 

“I have a bottle of wine I’ve been saving,” Bethany continued, her thumb rubbing the back of Varric’s hand. “We could open it tonight.”

 

“Yeah,” Varric was blinking at the carpet, sweat beading on his brow. Where was he going to sleep tonight? He supposed the floor would be fine. Or one of the armchairs, he definitely had napped in one of Hawke’s armchairs before and woken up to the mabari licking his face.

 

“It can be,” Bethany paused, her own nerves shaking her words a bit, “Romantic.”

 

Varric made an undignified noise and attempted to cover it up with a deep chuckle, “Yeah?”

 

Bethany stopped swaying her arm and Varric blinked up at her, painfully aware of the blush burning in his cheeks. She was smiling, no not just smiling, she was smirking. She knew what she was doing to him. She was doing it on purpose!

 

“You are staying the night, are you not?” Bethany asked with a raised brow.

 

Varric’s heart skipped a beat, rocketing against his chest when it started working again. “Uh-”

 

Bethany nodded pointedly, “Yes, you are, I insist.”

 

Varric was suddenly very thankful he hadn’t taken off his gloves yet, his palms were sweatier than they had ever been in his life.

 

“In Hawke’s bed?” He protested although he couldn’t stop a smile from twisting on his face, “You do know what she and Fenris did in that bed don’t you?”

 

“That’s very charming,” Bethany’s eyes narrowed accusingly, smirk still coy on her lips. Oh maker, those lips! “Do me a favor and never bring that up again, alright?”

 

Varric chuckled, his legs were shaking beneath him, “Alright but-”

 

Any other words Varric had been planning to say fell away as Bethany leaned towards him and pulled him into a kiss. Her free hand cupped the back of his head as she kissed him deeply, leaving him to shake himself from shock to grab her waist and kiss her back. It was perfect. It was so good, her mouth wet and hot against him and better than any kiss he could have ever hoped to write. The skies must have opened up and shined a divine glow down upon the house as all reason and thought melted from Varric’s brain to be replaced with Sunshine.

 

Bethany pulled away, teasing smile on her face as Varric tried to blink back to reality.

 

“You’re staying,” She said, pecking a quick kiss on his cheek.

 

”Yeah,” Varric sighed. He could barely believe that Bethany had swept him off of his feet.

  
  
  



End file.
